


enough of you just to dull the pain

by smallredboy



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prison, Fade to Black, Kissing, M/M, Minor Injuries, Prompt Fill, Trans Aaron Burr, Trans Alexander Hamilton, yeah idk what this is either
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-29 04:16:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15064952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallredboy/pseuds/smallredboy
Summary: Hamilton is Burr's new cellmate. He's talkative, and Burr isn't sure what to do with him.





	enough of you just to dull the pain

**Author's Note:**

> yeah im not pretty sure what this is. my friend ari gave me the prompts sick/injured fic, prison au and hamburr and this ... this sort of happened.
> 
> title from twin skeletons by fall out boy.
> 
> enjoy!

Burr doesn’t have much of a reputation at the prison. He’s been there for about six months, and pretty much no one knows what’s his deal. He hasn’t said a word to most other inmates; he’s tried to keep to himself.

The new kid, Hamilton — Alexander Hamilton seems pretty determined to make him speak up. He’s brash and loud and Burr has no clue what the hell Hamilton is there for. It could be anything, really. He seems twenty-four, twenty-five years old. Considering Burr is twenty-seven, it’s not much of a difference. They’re both young and in prison.

“Burr,” he starts, sitting next to him in the cell after lunch. “What’s your deal, Burr?” He has this lopsided grin that drives Burr mad, and fuck, he wants to know what Hamilton’s deal is, too.

“None of your business, Hamilton, piss off,” he replies.

“Oh, you almost swore at me!” he exclaims, voice bordering on sarcastic. Burr finds it kinda cute. “Now that’s some progress.”

Burr curses under his breath and decides to ignore the man. “Why does everyone want to know why I’m here?” he asks to the floor.

Hamilton either doesn’t catch he doesn’t wish for an answer or he just wants to piss him off. “Because you’re awfully quiet, Burr. Almost everyone here has threatened to punch me because I’m annoying as shit.” The words aren’t even said bitterly — it’s like he’s taken as a fact that he’s annoying. Considering Burr is able to tolerate his company, and even enjoy it sometimes, he isn’t really annoying. “Meanwhile, you? They changed me to this cell and you’ve barely said a few words to me.”

“You’re not annoying,” Burr mutters instead of talking about the matter at hand, and he realizes he said that out loud, and his body freezes up. He looks up, not meeting Hamilton’s gaze. He expects teasing or a laugh or a shake of his head.

Instead, Hamilton’s face is flushed pink, eyes a little wide with disbelief. “I am, Burr,” he says. And he sounds so sure of it, it makes Burr wonder (even if for just a second), what caused him to be so sure that he’s an annoyance.

He doesn’t reply. After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, he curls up on his bed. Hamilton climbs onto his own bunk, and Burr takes his own book. He reads for a few minutes until the lights are turned off. He falls asleep fairly quickly, trying not to think about what got him there.

It takes a few days until Burr and Hamilton have another conversation that lasts more than two exchanges.

Hamilton comes back to the cell with a black eye and a bloody nose, and Burr gets up from his bed, putting his book down. He looks at him with wide eyes and a worried expression but doesn’t manage to get a word out.

Hamilton doesn’t seem like the person to start a fight. Okay, he kind of does, but the man has at least a bit of common sense — he wouldn’t start a fight in a prison.

“Did you punch back?” Burr asks, and Hamilton looks up. He’s pressing tissues against his nose, to stop the bleeding.

“No,” he replies. He’s so uncharacteristically quiet it scares Burr a little.

Burr shifts his weight on his feet. “Who was it?”

“Laurens.”

Burr hums. Laurens is one of the biggest assholes in the prison, angry and quick to throw a punch. He’s not dangerous, not at all, but he is terribly annoying. More annoying than Hamilton has ever been. Laurens has sat next to Burr a few times during lunch and he’s managed to piss him off, although he’s never acted on it.

“Sit with me,” Burr says.

“Huh?”

He swallows his pride and insists, “Sit with me.”

Hamilton gets up and sits down next to him, pulling the tissues away from his nose. Burr rubs his side, in an attempt at helping him relax. He goes lax after a few minutes, closing his eyes.

“What caused it?” Burr asks.

“He found out I’m here for narcotic possession, threatened me, I didn’t reply, he called me a pushover and then threw a punch when I didn’t seem to care.”

“He’s like that with everyone,” Burr tries to comfort him. Hamilton laughs a little. “And you run your mouth, so it’s no surprise he threw a punch.”

“I know, I know.” Hamilton huffs and fixes his hair. It’s long; down to his shoulders. Burr doesn’t wanna admit he wants to tangle his hand on it, twist his fingers around it. “What are you here for, anyway?”

“Manslaughter,” Burr replies. He’s comforting the man, he might as well admit what he’s doing here.

Hamilton stiffens and he looks at him incredulously. “You’re kidding.”

Burr didn’t expect that response — back in high school, everyone said he looked capable of killing someone. Maybe he’s mellowed out, who knows. “I’m not. A guy broke into my house and I stabbed him with a kitchen knife; he didn’t get medical help. Didn’t intend to kill him.”

“Oh.”

Burr licks his lips. “Yeah.”

“Well, now I know something nobody else in this hell of a place does.” Hamilton smiles smugly and lifts his leg up to rest it on Burr’s own. Burr’s face burns, but he’s not embarrassed, exactly. “Isn’t that intimate, Aaron Burr?”

_Oh._

Hamilton’s flirting with him.

He opens his mouth, eyes widened. He struggles with words. “I-I’d say so?”

“Would you like to kiss the punches Laurens threw better, Aaron Burr?” He’s got his lopsided grin back on his face, and his hair is long and the blood in his lip makes him look even more attractive. Burr’s heart falters for a second.

Burr tries to grin.

“You’re smiling,” Hamilton says, “I’d never see you smile before. It’s attractive.”

His face burns even more. “Thank you, Alexander Hamilton.”

Their lips meet — Hamilton cups Burr’s cheek with his hand, tan skin contrasting with dark brown — and Burr for once doesn’t care for the consequences of his actions. It’s a slow kiss for maybe five seconds before they’re kissing fiercely, all teeth and tongue.

Once they pull away, Burr’s heart beats hard against his rib cage, and he thinks he’ll die.

“You’re beautiful,” Burr says, tangling a hand on Hamilton’s hair.

“I know.”

Burr lets himself scoff before kissing him again, and again, and again. He takes Hamilton’s shirt off, and he runs his hand down his chest. Hamilton is kind of stiff; like he’s expecting something. Burr takes a bit to notice the small scars near his armpits. He blinks a little.

“Where you got these?” he asks.

“Top surgery,” he replies. “I’m lucky to be in a men’s prison.”

Burr nods, playing with Hamilton’s waistband absentmindedly. He kisses him again before going down, kissing his neck, his collarbones, his pec. He’s so stunning it drives him into silence.

“You don’t…?” Hamilton doesn’t finish the sentence as Burr takes his shirt off too, exposing the scars along his chest. Hamilton blinks, and for a second or two he’s rendered speechless too. “Oh.”

They kiss again, and Burr smiles against Hamilton’s lips. He pulls at his hair a little, and he’s pleased when Hamilton’s eyes flutter shut and he lets out a soft whimper.

“Well, at least we would’ve met at the women’s prison too.”

Hamilton laughs — Burr decides he can live with someone seeing them when he pushes Hamilton’s pants down.


End file.
